


all is full of love

by medlli



Series: keen ice [4]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety Attacks, Art Criticism, Canon Compliant, Complicated Relationships, Confessions, Eavesdropping, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hiding, Hiding in Plain Sight, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Nude Modeling, Nude Photos, Post-Canon, Spoilers, but like... in a painting, lmao good luck figuring out what's happening in this fic through tags alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medlli/pseuds/medlli
Summary: You'll be given love;You'll be taken care of.You'll be given love;You have totrust it.





	all is full of love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bubbleglums](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubbleglums/gifts).



> HAPPY NEW YEAR LET'S RING IT IN WITH THIS FIC THAT SHOULDA BEEN DONE AGES AGO
> 
> truth be told I kinda wanted to update this before [thunderous flamenco](http://archiveofourown.org/series/734184), but timeline-wise, that wouldn't have made a lick of sense; also if I wrote this first, there would be a lot of questioning why Ann and Ryuji aren't in this
> 
> so anyway, welcome to another installment of something _completely different_ for the song ref lmao
> 
> [blows a kiss at tumblr] for [Joy](http://www.bubbleglums.tumblr.com), the person who probably wanted this the most lmao

 

 

 

 

> ( _twist your head around; it's all around you_ )

 

_**CONTINUE FROM LAST SAVE?** _

**23/06/20XX**

**01:53**

[YES]/[NO]

[YES]/[ _NO_ ]

She sighed.

 **[YES]** /[NO]

> _OPENING EYES SEQUENCE…_

> …

> …

> _EYES OPENED._

\- _**SIT UP?**_

[YES]/[NO]

 **[YES]** /[NO]

She groaned in pain as her head lifted itself off the desk, body _Stiffened_ as she untangled awkward limbs from the cocoon of sheets she’d _Trapped_ herself in. Her body protested as she slid the chair back and stood, joints popping while she stretched. She could already feel the **Awful Repercussions** of a mistake she repeatedly made, trying to repair the cricks in her neck when it malfunctioned as she tried to turn her head.

‘ _That’s what I get for falling asleep at my desk again…_ ’

It took her a few minutes to recalibrate her body, heading to the light switch so she could find her phone. Some strange glitch must have caused a **Lapse of Judgement** , as she typically had it next to her when she ran through the night hacking. She browsed through her archives to remember where she’d left it and why, but she was only able to pull up the history on the latter.

Yusuke had been active in the group chat again.

‘ _What if I just softban him? He basically uses **Speak With Self** the whole time anyway. He wouldn’t notice a thing._ ’ While she’d entertained the idea, she could already playback Akira’s favourite lines to **Chastise** her with when she abused her skills. She turned down the audio with a grimace, deciding that that was definitely _not_ how she wanted to start her morning(?).

‘ _Wait. What time is it, actually?_ ’

Some faint audio overlapped Akira’s dwindling voice, Makoto’s just barely piercing through to remind her of… something. Something… art-related.

 ** _Artistry_**. That was Yusuke’s **_Ability_**.

Whatever it was, it was trashed along with the file, irritated by the reminder of the person she wanted to remember the least.

Her phone chimed from the floor near her bed soon after, cancelling her command to clear any of the memory space he took up in her database. Her brow creased as it chimed successively; she heard three different ringtones chime seven times, to be exact. She verified the time first, seeing her **Hypersomnia** had gotten the better of her again last night; it was thankfully still June 23 rd, but the time already read 13:16.

She’d **Berate** herself later. For now, the more pressing matter were these texts she received, knowing she was about to be thrown into a sidequest she wanted nothing to do with. ‘ _Separate texts, huh? Must be serious if they aren’t sharing it in the group chat._ ’

With clear favouritism, she checked Akira’s texts first, already feeling _Dread_ infect her when she read his (not at all) informative text.

 **Kurusu Akira [13:14]:** _LOL oh boy_

 **Kurusu Akira [13:14]:** _Let me know when you want to head over_

Oh no. Already predicting she would even _want_ to leave the house for this one? This could _not_ be good.

She checked Haru’s next despite the _Trembling_ running through her body.

 **Okumura Haru [13:15]:** _I’m sure Mako-chan’s already given you the details, so I won’t repeat them._

 **Okumura Haru [13:15]:** _So I just want to say I support this and you look absolutely stunning!_

“In… In _what_?” Futaba croaked, trying her damnedest not to prematurely activate her **Nervous Breakdown** spell.

Only Makoto’s were left.

 **Niijima Makoto [13:13]:** _Uh, hey! You’re probably not awake yet; I tried to call you an hour ago, but you didn’t pick up._

 **Niijima Makoto [13:15]:** _I… realise there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it outright._

 **Niijima Makoto [13:16]:** _You’re, uh… you’re the main piece for Yusuke’s part of the exhibit._

The phone dropped from her hands in an instant, _Floored_ quite literally by what she’d read. She clutched the sides of her head, hands curling into fists as she began to **Hyperventilate**. ‘ _Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh **no oh no ohno ohno ohnoohno**_ —”

She scrambled for her phone as it rang, only partially _Relieved_ when she saw it was Akira who was on the other end. She picked up immediately.

“ _Looks like you saw my te_ —”

“We need to go. _Now_.”

She could hear his sigh pushed through his nose; she wasn’t exactly hiding the fact that she had gone into Full Panic Mode.

“ _Futaba. Close your eyes and breath with me. You ready? In… Out. In… Out._ ’ His voice was gentle, audible breaths soothing her into a more stable state as she followed his pattern. “ _We can deal with this together. Nothing says you’ve gotta take this quest alone. Let’s take this one task at a time, alright?_ ”

She concentrated on the slow drawl of his voice, thankful for her companion’s **_Ability_** : **_Fortitude_**.

“ _No need to thank me; I’m the best healer around when it comes to curing your **Anxiety**. Now come get the door. I’m outside. Morgana’s here too._ ”

She exhaled a shaky laugh when he hung up at the same time the doorbell resounded through her room. Of course, she couldn’t forget about _Joker’s **Ability**_ either. The Metaverse might have been long gone, but his secret persona’s **_Wit_** was here to stay.

The second she opened the door, she flew into his waiting arms, both knowing that she couldn’t completely calm down without a physical outlet. Akira patted her head affectionately as Morgana trotted forward, looking up at her expectantly. Her forehead pressed against the former’s chest, gasping with surprise at the latter’s offer. “A-Are you sure?”

“Go for it.”

She pulled away from the Human as she picked up the Cat, coddling the feline in her arms and rubbing their faces together.

“… Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. No, seriously, don’t. If Haru catches wind of this, I’m done for. I’d never escape her cuddles.”

The two Humans laugh as they walked down the hall to her room, Akira seating himself on her bed while Futaba took her trademark chair, placing Morgana in her lap. The lightened mood shifted back to its heavier origin, the redhead sensing the _Dread_ creeping back into her system. “If I’m the subject… it must be awful, huh?”

The former leader frowned at the obvious **Self-Deprecation** loaded in her sentence, clicking his tongue with disapproval. “Not only are you doubting his skills as an artist, but you’re doubting your own appeal as well. I don’t think you realise how troubled he is by the fact that you haven’t spoken in almost _four weeks_. I know you don’t read the group chat when he’s there, either.”

She scowled at his easy read of her habits, cursing his near-perfect _Accuracy_ when it came to calling out any of the members for their flaws. “Well… I… That’s…”

“Honestly? It’s breathtaking. It’s only been up for four hours and people are already calling it his ‘magnum opus.’ I haven’t seen it in person yet, but Makoto sent me a picture and… wow. Can’t wait until we head out.”

“Wh-What? She did? I wanna see!”

He clicked his tongue again before shaking his head no. “ _You_ are just gonna have to wait until we see it at the exhibit. Now, before we go, have you bathed yet?”

“… No.” Already she could tell his **Chastise** had activated. She wasn’t sure if it was him or Sojiro who was the actual parent around here.

“How about your teeth? Have you brushed them?”

“… _No_ …”

“What are you waiting for?”

Thoroughly _Nagged_ , she let go of Morgana to leave him on the chair as she went to complete the more menial parts of this sidequest.

 

* * *

 

 “I _will_ confiscate your phone if you don’t stop trying to hack into mine,” he warned, **Icy Glare** freezing Futaba solid. She had the decency to display a **Sheepish Grin** when she was _Spotted_ , tucking her phone away into her pocket.

The trio was on their way to Shibuya half an hour after Akira’s and Morgana’s visit to her home. They were heading into the **_Stealth_** portion of this questline; the redhead had dug up some clothes she normally reserved for nights out, equipping a new hoodie she’d purchased last week as well to reduce the likelihood of Yusuke _Spotting_ her.

“I just wanted to see it…” she muttered, pouting as she stared out the window.

“And you will. Live. In about twenty minutes.” He could see her fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, turning to face her fully. “I know you’re doing it to quell your _Anxious_ status, but if anything, this is an exercise in learning some **_Patience_**.”

“Unfortunately, that’s Makoto’s **_Ability_** ; no one’s allowed to have more than one except you, for some reason.”

“Try to channel her then. I’d try **Channel Divinity** ; she’s the Priestess after all. Unless, of course, you _do_ want your phone taken away…”

He laughed when she scowled at him, noticing that she turned her attention to the Cat resting in the bag. “I dunno how you put up with this all the time,” she pretended to whisper, “furtive” glances very obviously catching the eye of the other Human.

“Try bargaining. He _loves_ to negotiate.”

“But **_Bartering_** ’s _your **Ability**_!” she whined, holding her face in her hands.

“Looks like you’ll just have to wait then,” Akira said, laughing as she groaned in defeat.

They reached their destination about ten minutes later, the party pausing once they reached the Station Square. “I-I don’t know if I… I d-don’t wanna go anymore…” Futaba winced at her accursed **Shy Stammer** making an appearance now of all times. “W-We should… we should g-go home…”

The Human companion frowned, gathering her up and heading to the nearest bench, sitting down right beside her. “If you really don’t wanna go, we won’t. I’m not here to force you into going. But I do think you really need to talk to him at some point or another. He asks me about you every day, you know.”

“B-But what if… wh-what if it’s too late? What if h-he didn’t a-actually mean anything he said that night? What if I th-think the painting’s total garbage? What if this d-doesn’t work out at all?”

“Realistically, all very possible, but all you’ll ever ask yourself is ‘what ifs’ if you don’t go. See the painting. **Analyze** it, like you always do. Think about what he’s saying about you to himself, to the world, and to _you_. And if you find his message worth anything at all, talk to him.”

She took deep breaths as he spoke, concentrating on the sounds of the city around them once their conversation had fallen into _Silence_. Eyes closed, she focused on the patter of footfalls, the faint backtrack of a subway car running across its rails, the titter of birds in the trees. Grounded by the present, she slowly got to her feet, turning around to face Akira. “Thank you. I… I think I’m ready. Let’s go.”

The crowd gathered inside the studio was overwhelming, the redhead eternally grateful for the arm he offered. She clung to him for any semblance of stability, reminding herself to keep breathing. Shutting down _in front_ of all these randos was the last thing she needed right now.

The venue buzzed with excitement over the pieces displayed, the visitors that appeared today getting the very first looks at the exhibit that would be up for a month. Though it was a lot to take in, **_Analyst_** had gone into overdrive, filtering all this information into her database for future reference. If she lost her nerve to speak with him today, she would have the next thirty days to finish this questline once and for all.

She looked up at her Human companion curiously when he stopped their stroll, the former leader motioning to the gathering ahead. The commotion was audible from where they were; she knew the chatter had to be surrounding her objective. “Is it really that good?” she mumbled as they made their push, each step wobbling from the **Anxious Tremors** she couldn’t suppress. On their push, Futaba had shielded her face in the back of his upper arm, a soft whimper escaping when he slowly pried his arm from her hold.

“Well… See for yourself.”

Eyes squeezed shut, she took in as much air as her lungs could hold, snapping her head up when they alerted her that they had reached capacity. Gradually, her eyes reopened to finally see the piece in her image.

In an instant, she was _Breathless_.

The canvas was just about her height and nearly just as wide, its orientation a portrait as expected. The palette of colours splashed upon the tarpaulin was limited, stained with the key colors of orange, cream, and black in various shades. While mildly abstract in nature, it was clear the wide, messy brush strokes had meant to portray a figure. The cream of the figure’s body almost glowed under the studio lights, contrasting the deep black surrounding the body that it threatened to consume. However, the dark was kept at bay by the halo of orange, emanating from the top of the figure’s head and occupying the spaces in between the two opposing colours.

The figures head was turned to the right, a nose and lips lightly outlined within the orange to give a profile view, but lacking eyes; thick lines of orange—“bangs”—obscured the area, taking their place. Arms folded at the chest to conceal a bosom, the strokes used here intentionally ending where fingers would be to provide some semblance of digits. The curve of hips led down to the figure’s thighs, pressed together tightly, the portrait stopping right above the knees.

What spoke to Futaba the most, however, was the loose shape of everything; all of it lacked any real straight lines. The painting of her was blurred in every sense, meant to be seen with low clarity in the arrant dark surrounding her.

An homage to that night.

“What’s… what’s the name… of the piece?” she whispered, more to herself than anyone surrounding them.

“… _Bittersweet Sakura_.”

She whipped her head in the direction of Akira’s bag, the Cat the only creature able to hear her through the **Errant Ambiance**. Rapidly processing this additional information, her head snapped back to the painting, fervently search for anything else she could glean from it.

Her venture was cut short from a patron’s sharp observation that she should have—but _did not_ —anticipate.

“Whoa, hey… Is… Is this _you_?” The woman’s eyes narrowed as she took in the hacker’s appearance, looking back to the painting to see the similarities.

“Wh-Wh-What? N-No, that’s… I-I’m not…”

“That’s definitely you, isn’t it?”

Futaba balked under the accurate accusation, the _Dread_ returning in full swing as she converged upon her **Nervous Breakdown**.

“Oh my god, so did you model for him? This looks so intimate, though… Are you two—”

“ _Excuse us_.”

Akira swept the redhead up in his arms, booking their party towards the sanctuary near the restrooms. He sighed heavily when he felt her **Anxious Tremors** , giving her **Soothing Shushes** as he rubbed her back. Morgana poked his head out of the bag, expressing his own concerns for her. “Hey… If you wanna leave now, we can. You saw what you came here to see, right? You don’t have to stay.”

Much to their surprise, they received an answer most unexpected given her current state of affairs. “… No. I definitely have to talk to him. Here. Today. I’m gonna break my streak.”

The Cat and the other Human exchanged glances, gazing at the one who pulled away, exhaling a breath that shuddered with her uncertainty. “Let’s go find him.”

She tucked her hair into the hoodie this time, pulling it forward enough to conceal her face that much more. With a nod to Akira to confirm her choice, she returned his encouraging smile, returning to the floor.

They camped the area near the portrait, though keeping a fair distance to avoid a second bout of **Unwanted Recognition**. The trio chatted intermittently for half an hour until Morgana hissed a whispered, “He’s coming!”

> _**FLEE?**_

[YES]/[NO]

[ _YES_ ]/[NO]

[ _YES_ ]/[NO]

[ _YES_ ]/[NO]

[YES]/ **[NO]**

Though every command in every other part of her body screamed at her to run, she held her ground.

… However, she slinked away behind Akira so that they were back to back, not quite ready to take on this boss battle. She heard his low chuckle, seeing the thumbs-up he snuck behind his back to let her know he could take it from here for now.

“Ah, Akira! You came!”

Just hearing the timbre of his voice had her _Frozen_ , **Whelmed** by the emotions she’d suppressed since their **_Session_** almost four weeks ago.

“Of course I did. As did Morgana.” The Cat poked his head out of the bag to greet the artist before disappearing within its confines once more. “Sorry I couldn’t help you this morning, though; Boss needed a hand.”

“That’s quite alright. Makoto and Haru were more than enough help. I’d only had three pieces to put up.”

Futaba reached up, left arm across her chest as she tugged at Akira’s left sleeve, signaling that he had her approval. The conversation was going to come to a head sooner or later, and she wanted answers as soon as humanly possible.

“I see one of them is the real star of the show, though,” her crafty companion supplied, skilled in the complexities of dialogue trees. “It’s kinda different from your usual stuff. Not as abstract.”

“Yes…” All three party members easily picked up on the **Somber Solemnity** in his voice at the segue into the obvious elephant in the studio. “My prior paintings leaned toward abstract expressionism, but this one is a variation of that, known as ‘neo-expressionism.’ The former tends not to use defined shapes and figures, which… is something I explicitly wanted to implement this time.”

“No kidding.” A lull hit the conversation, as though the two were looking over the painting again.

“I… Actually, I’d like to hear your opinion on it, Akira.”

Though she could only study the polished linoleum of the building, she could clearly **Envision** his **Quirked Brow** and **Sly Smirk** as well.

“My base opinion? Not anything you couldn’t have heard already. It’s… beautiful, honestly. Amazing. Makoto sent me a picture of it this morning, but it doesn’t compare to seeing it in person.” He paused when Yusuke expressed his usual **Bemused Chortle**. “But, knowing you, and knowing _what’s going on_ , I can tell it’s more than just some pretty painting.”

“Oh? Do share.” The comment held no **Animosity** , though it didn’t carry any **Genuine Curiosity** either. Rather, it spoke of the hope in being heard correctly, of the hope in desperately wishing to display an emotion as clearly as possible.

“She inspired you in a way you weren’t expecting. That painting’s _really_ just you calling out to her, isn’t it? She’s shut you out in every way possible and you’re desperate to say something— _anything_ —to her. You’re hoping she sees this, so you can finally let your feelings be heard. The feelings you have about that night. About _her_.”

“I-I…”

In the second lull of the conversation, Futaba tried furiously to suppress her **Anxious Tremors** , but it was to no avail. In Yusuke’s stammer, she could hear his disconcertion with the _Accuracy_ Akira had shown. It was a scary thing, being faced with the verbalization of your emotions from someone who wasn’t you.

She waited with **Bated Breath** for what would come next.

“… You love her, don’t you?”

“I do.”

She grasped Akira’s hands the second they folded behind his back for her, the tension in their grip the only thing keeping her from being _Floored_. While she was aware he always spoke with **Earnest Expression** , the lack of hesitation and the hard conviction in which Yusuke had uttered those two words were more than she could take.

“It was a revelation I couldn’t ignore—a bittersweet one, as it were. I can sense it’s mutual, though perhaps not in its entirety; I have come to face my feelings wholly and without restraint, but it seems she still has some difficulty accepting both mine and her own.” He sighed, tone pained as he spoke again. “I want to show her how I feel, but with being shut out as I have, this was the only method I had left.”

She stepped out from behind Akira then, given a temporary reprieve as he had taken to gazing wistfully at the painting again, the yearning in his eyes unconcealed.

“Perhaps it is a bit too intimate to present to the public, but in this way, I was uninhibited. There was no technology to block me, no barren houses or cafés to visit. I have finally said my piece, so now I leave it to her to respond however and whenever she pleases.

“… Oh.”

His eyes were wide when he saw a sight he had never anticipated—Futaba stood before him, her hood long pulled down as she wrung her hands together in front of him.

“H-Hey…”

His eyes then flicked to the man now standing behind her, mouth unhinged as he gave Akira the most incredulous look. “She—behind you—when—how—”

The former leader could only shrug, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Looks like you two have quite a bit to talk about.” He took his own cue to leave, disappearing into the throngs of the crowd.

“C-Can we… m-move somewhere… quieter?”

He felt himself nod dumbly as he motioned for her to follow, unsure of where the boundary lied regarding physical contact. He brought her to the back of the studio, as far removed from the rabble as they could be in the enclosed space.

“You… heard everything, didn’t you?” He took a deep breath when she nodded, eyes to the floor. One foot overlapped the other, her hands behind her back; it was their moment on the doorstep all over again.

“Well, I suppose there’s no need to repeat myself… You’ve already heard what I had to say, as well as some other things I’d hoped to reveal once we were on speaking terms again… I’ve gone and made a fool of myself in front of you.”

Though weak, the laugh that chimed from her mouth brought a smile to his face, even if it was at his expense.

“You… You haven’t…”

His face creased in concern, shaking his head. “There’s no need to have this conversation now, especially if you aren’t prepared. Really, it’s enough that you came to see the painting. And it’s more than enough that _I_ got to see _you_.”

She peered up at him then, his face softening with sympathy when he saw the hot tears trailing down her face.

“Oh, Futaba…” He closed in on her, wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his hug. He closed his eyes as he buried his nose in her hair, stroking the back of her head. “I may not be well-versed in comforting others, but it’s easy enough to take observational tips from Akira.” He felt some of his own anxiety quelled when he heard another muffled giggle, smiling into the strands.

They stayed like that for some time, Yusuke beginning to pull away after she seemed to have calmed down. When she tightened her grip on his button-down and shook her head against his chest, he brought his arms around her once again.

“I’m… sorry. That I’ve been so… unfair to you.” She spoke slowly, face still hidden within his shirt. “I… This is all… so new to me, you know? I didn’t… I **Fled** because I didn’t know how to handle any of it. And I… I didn’t know if that night was just some **Fumbled Fluke** or if you actually felt the same.”

“Well, as you’ve learned today, I most certainly do.”

“Heh, yeah.” She propped her chin up against his chest, beaming up at him. “I always knew you were a total sap. I thought your **_Ability_** was **_Artistry_** , not **_Waxing Poetic_**.”

He scoffed, offended. “I beg your pardon?” One arm unraveled from around her, a hand to his chest as he pulled away. “I bare my soul to you without even knowing you were there, and you call it _‘waxing poetic_?’ Have some gravitas, Futaba!”

She laughed wholly this time, clearly recovering from her meltdown earlier. There was still much to discuss, but they would have to save it for a more opportune time and place.

For now, a return to form was more than enough.

As her laughter died down, she sighed, looking about the crowd for Akira. “I’d love to stay, but I _really_ gotta get out of here. Can’t handle being around this many people for too long.”

He nodded in understanding, offering his hand to help her traverse the sea of bodies. His eyes widened slightly when she actually took it, Futaba scoffing with her offense this time. “We had sex and you didn’t bat an eye, but I take your hand and you have the nerve to look _Shocked_? You’re something else, Inari.”

It was his turn to laugh this time, shrugging with his lack of an opposing reply. “And yet, still…”

She sighed, exasperated with the implication, though still grinning. “And _yet_ …”

They let the words lie unsaid instead, saving them for when they would matter the most.

 

* * *

 [ **What do your omniscient eyes see, Necronomicon?** ]

[ _Only you, Goemon._ ]

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> [me in a pair of booty shorts that read "Wikipedia saved this ass"]  
> I know shit all abt art styles and their history fam this prolly don't make a lick of sense but Yusuke's paintings felt like he was more an abstract artist than anything SO neo-expressionism is like mildly adjacent lmao  
> on top of that since he wanted to draw Ann for something I feel it's not too out there that he would go with this art styl--who am I justifying myself to??? who tf cares??? _I CHOSE. WHAT I CHOSE._
> 
> anyway the best example to give you an idea of what it kinda looks like would be [George Baselitz' _The Gleaner_](https://i0.wp.com/www.guggenheim.org/wp-content/uploads/1978/01/87.3508_ph_web.jpg?w=870)  
>  except... you know... upright... and futaba... with different colours  
> listen it's your imagination y'all figure it out I'm tired u_u
> 
> also I totally headcanon that Akira + Futaba are basically bro + sis and he adopts her way of speaking to her sometimes to make her more comfortable anyway that was my shitty headcanon thank you for coming to my ted talk
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [personal twitter](http://www.twitter.com/lesimperatrices)  
> 


End file.
